“Elsie!” I heard a voice yell. I didn’t look to see who it was. Because I knew. Who else would yell my name with such worry and urgency? Who else would have brought a hint of peace to my heart at such a moment? “Elsie!” the voice said, louder this time. He had come closer to me.
Thank goodness he was alive. I turned to look into his face. The number of vivid emotions on his face caused my heart to ache. They spoke of his deep concern for me, and my reaction to him spoke of my own feelings. I wanted to reach out to him, to feel his warmth and sink into his comforting presence. But I held Simon in my arms as I began shaking from the cold and the sorrow.
“He’s gone!” I said to Mr. Ashby. “Simon’s dead!” My sob tore at mythroat.
He looked at Patrice. “We need to get below deck. There’s nothing we can do at this point. If we lose another mast, we’re done for. If it comes down, we can’t predict where it will hit. The only safe place is below!”
I watched her nod and they both peeled me away from Simon. I tried to take him with us, but both of my companions told me it was useless. We had to save ourselves. So I followed them. We fled below, down to our cabin. Mr. Ashby came with us, making sure to drape our blankets over us once we were inside. He put his arms around our shoulders and we sat there silently together, shaking from cold and fear.
We spent the entire night in frozen panic. Every creak, every yell, every cry sent my heart racing. Was this the moment of our demise? Could we survive the storm?
Then slowly—or suddenly, I couldn’t tell—the ship stopped lurching. The wind stopped howling. The yelling subsided. Patrice and I looked at Mr. Ashby and he released us, standing to open the door to look outside. There was no movement beyond the door frame. Patrice and I exchanged glances, then followed Mr. Ashby up to the mess deck.
Mr. Hull, exhausted and soaked, saw us and nodded sadly before going up through the hatch. We followed him.
The sky was blue and bright, as if denying the storm had ever happened. I would’ve believed it, had I not been standing on the sorry excuse for a ship. The main mast hadn’t broken, thankfully. The aft mast, however, seemed beyond repair. Rigging littered the deck.
Men took note of everything they’d have to do to make theKatarinaseaworthy again, expressions downtrodden.
I took Patrice’s hand, squeezing tightly, and she returned the gesture. Mr. Ashby sighed beside me. “I’ll go speak with the captain.” I watched him walk over to Captain Selton and discuss something. They spoke for so long that I tired of watching, so I pulled Patrice over to where we’d left Simon. His body was gone. Not one hint of him ever being there. But the vision was seared into my memory.
Another soul lost. Was sailing always this challenging, this traumatic? If so, I didn’t understand why anyone would risk their sanity to cross the sea. I thought I’d understood. And I had, at least theoretically. But from mutiny to maelstrom, it seemed the costs outweighed the gains.
I fell to my knees, touching the spot where I’d held Simon.
“He must ’ave been taken to sea,” Patrice said.
I couldn’t speak. I closed my eyes and said a fervent prayer that heaven would take care of him. When my eyes opened, I looked into the blue sky and saw a bird. I hadn’t seen a bird in weeks. There were few birds that lived on the water. Most birds lived…on land. Hope swelled in my wounded heart.
“What kind of bird is that?” I said to Patrice.
She looked up, but before she could respond, a sound I’d never heard before rang in my ears.
“Land ho!”
My mouth hung open as I stood and went to the starboard side to look. I squinted. Just the tiniest sliver of a shadow of land on the horizon.
“But what land…is it?” I asked Patrice, who I knew was just as clueless as me.
“Could be Antigua,” Mr. Ashby said behind me. “Perhaps that is just wishful thinking.”
“What will we do now?” I asked after several moments of silence.
The emotions on his face went from grief to relief and back again. “Let’s get to the navigator’s cabin and try to find out where we are to ease some of the panic. It hasn’t started, but it is imminent. There is nothing to be done about the mast; without Horton, we don’t have the skill to repair it.” He dragged a hand through his damp hair. “The mutiny seems to have been the death of us.”
“Don’t say that. We’re not going to die.” I said it with a certainty I didn’t know I had. “You must have a plan to get us to Basseterre. Don’t you?” When he met my eyes, I hoped he could see the faith I had in him. Because if there was anyone in this world I believed would save us, it was Arthur Ashby. But perhaps that was too much to put on his shoulders.
His laugh was unexpected, if short. “You know me, always one step ahead of the crowd.” His tone was sarcastic, but I couldn’t help seeing the truth of his words. While the choice to come aboard theKatarinawas not the most enlightened, he had kept us safe and protected the crew as well as he could. His quick thinking and level head had improved morale, both within the crew and between the three of us.
“I trust you.”
Those sky-blue eyes met mine with such seriousness, it was as if that was the final sentence that would ever be spoken. No words would come after. The book could now close.
A slow smile began on his lips. “I’ll hold you to that,” he responded while leading the way to Tallow’s cabin.
Chapter 15
Aftergoingoversomeof the maps on Tallow’s desk, Mr. Ashby and I gathered the materials needed to figure out where we were and went to the forecastle deck. Patrice, Mr. Ashby, and I checked the sextant, octant, compass, and map to triangulate our location. Mr. Ashby seemed confused for quite a while, and my help was minimal. But after an hour, we were almost certain.
